Tell Me A Story
by The Girl in the Fireplace
Summary: When a six-year-old girl goes missing, DI Neil Manson and DC Grace Dasari head the search. However, when things take a nasty turn, the question is can Neil and Grace find her...without losing themselves along the way? Contains adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey, new fic! Whilst still writing Reflections, I wanted to try writing another The Bill fic, but tackling a different issue which I hope I can do justice. Please read and review because reviews make me smile and help me make these stories more enjoyable and accurate __ thank you! P.S. I don't own The Bill __ or any characters etc._

Chapter 1 – Tell Me A Story

4am. Silence occupied the city, except the dull wail of sirens in the distance, or the occasional car driving past.

Number 17 Wellbank Road. The house drenched in darkness, a family asleep upstairs, unsuspecting; unaware.

A door is unlocked, the person slipping seemingly undetected into the house, silently closing the door. They wait. No sound. The person takes a few cautious steps forward, once again stopping to ensure no one is awake. When there is nothing but silence, the person moves on.

The little bedroom. Behind a strong, white oak door lies Rose, cuddled up tight in her warm cosy bed. The walls surrounding her displayed a menagerie of animals all shapes and sizes. From dolphins to kittens, from polar bears to horses, the little girl's room was like her own personal zoo. As Rose lay sleeping - the vibrant pink of her walls casting a warm glow over her room thanks to a moon-shaped nightlight - something stirred from downstairs. Footsteps. But Rose didn't hear. She lay in innocent sleep, imagining herself saving the world from nasty closet monsters. If only she knew that soon, the monsters would win, and then someone would have to ask: who would save little Rose?

Jasmine. Her red and black room was filled with items that betrayed who this conflicted teenager was. A pair of black skinny jeans thrown over an empty silver chair, green trainers sat in the corner, almost forlorn. Posters of different bands crowded around her, with names like Metallica and Flyleaf emblazoned across them. A make-up table strewn with mascaras and a variety of different coloured eyeliners, along with alternative jewellery such as a necklace with a razor-blade charm. Underneath her bed lay piles of rock magazines that Jasmine dutifully purchased every month. A small bookcase filled with CDs of bands also sporting obscure names such as Cradle of Filth and Kill Hannah, and DVDs of many genres ranging from Twilight to Shaun of the Dead. All in all, a room that screamed angst and rebellion, dowsed in appropriate darkness from the still night outside. As the wind howled through the crack in the windowframe, Jasmine snuggled further under her covers, troubled by a dream of major humiliation; a dream that would soon pale into significance.

Black and white. The duvet covers draped across a mother-of-two as she lay sound asleep, dreaming of a wedding day so far far away. A white satin dress hugged a perfect hourglass figure, the smooth honey complexion of a young woman's skin making her look radiant. Her long brown hair curled perfectly around and down past her shoulders, every curl completed with precision and care. In the background plays a soft, sweet tune as the band warm up waiting on the bride-to-be, as she receives the finishing touches to her make-up. Ready, she begins the nerve-wracking walk down the aisle, and as she looks side to side she sees her mother and father holding hands and smiling up at her. After what seems like forever, she reaches the altar, and turns around to smile at her soon-to-be husband, and watches as he smiles back, all the love he has for her reflected in is eyes. Denise smiled in her sleep, remembering this perfect day when her love for Nigel was stronger than it ever could have been. Little was Denise to know that those vows she made on that perfect day were to become nothing more than part of the fairytale, whilst she was left with the aftermath of a dream, for better or for worse.

1 day previous:

"Jasmine! Hurry up, you'll be late for school!" Denise Halpern shouted, grimacing as she glanced at her watch for the fifth time that morning. It was 7.30am, and Denise had to leave in 10 minutes. She hated it when things were running late, and she just wished that her family could understand that. She turned around to check on her younger daughter Rose, who sat at the kitchen table wolfing down her eggy bread in a typically childish, greedy manner.

"Rose, slow down. You'll choke on that bread." Just at that, her little girl looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Sorry mummy." She then sat the bread down on her plate and began munching slower on what was in her mouth, smiling at her mum as she did so. Despite her harassed mood, Denise returned the smile, a warm feeling of affection in her stomach. No matter what was happening in their life, Denise couldn't help but find happiness in that little girl. Suddenly, the fifteen year old Jasmine came thundering down the stairs, her dyed black hair bouncing on her head, a little pink bow perched on the side. As per usual, Jasmine sported skinny black jeans and black Converse trainers, with a white shirt, school tie and pink zebra print hoodie as her version of uniform. Her thick black eye make-up and tatty black nails were the finishing touches to her look, a look which her mother had long given up trying to change. "Look at all those other pretty girls in your class Jasmine" she would say, less than subtly. "Why must you insist on being so 'different'?" she would ask, bemoaning her daughter's decision to dress like an "emo". Entering the kitchen, Jasmine grabbed an apple and shoved it in her bag before grabbing a can of Cola from the fridge.

"Ready. Happy now?" she asked in a sarcastic manner, and rolled her eyes for effect. Denise sighed.

"Jasmine, must you be so...brash?" At that, Jasmine scoffed.

"Do you ALWAYS have to criticise me? I'm sorry I can't be a cute six-year-old like Rose, it must seem so selfish of me(!)" Jasmine folded her arms. "This is me. Deal with it!" That was it. Denise turned to her daughter, fire in her eyes.

"Jasmine Halpern, who the hell do you think you are? Do you think you can talk to me any way you want?" She paused, almost as if she wanted an answer, but then continued. "I am sick and tired of your moody attitude! I have been ironing my work clothes whilst trying to get your little sister sorted for school and make her lunch. I had to take the bins out AGAIN this morning because you were obviously

too busy to do it last night WHEN I ASKED YOU TO! I give you money for school, I give you money for going out with our friends, and I am TRYING to keep this house running whilst your dad is away on business! Now, I want you to go outside and get in the car, sit and wait until Rose is ready, and IF you can manage it, keep your mouth shut for the journey. Understood?" Jasmine laughed at this.

"That's just it mum. You're TRYING to keep this family going, but without dad you're just crap! I bet you don't even know what's happening today at school with me? Despite me telling you last night! Go on, guess!" Denise sighed.

"I will NOT play your ridiculous games Jas..." however, her daughter cut her off.

"It's the awards ceremony mum! Did you even remember that I was getting an award? Did you?" Denise faltered, but only for a second. "Of course I did!" But Jasmine just laughed. "No you didn't! I told you about it, and the only thing you said was 'oh well I can't make it Jasmine. Work.' and that was it. I wasn't even asking you to be there! I just wanted you to rememeber, but that was obviously too much to ask of the world's greatest mother!" It was the final straw. Denise grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and shouted,

"you cheeky little bitch! How dare you! I am so sick and tired of your 'poor me' attitude! You walk around like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders when you're only 15 years old! Do you think you are THAT important

Jasmine? Hmm? If your dad was here he'd say the same. You're so selfish Jasmine, and I never brought you up to be like this! I don't know where you learnt it, but it stops now! Do you hear me? Because I am NOT having a waste of space for a daughter! So give me a goddamn break!"

She finally let go of a now terrified Jasmine, who just stood shaking for a few seconds. Without speaking, Jasmine grabbed the car keys from the hall table and left, slamming the door behind her, determined not to let her mum see the tears that threatened to coarse down her face.

Denise stood for a few seconds, in awe of her own behaviour. Had she really just done that? She could still taste the bitterness of what she said, imagining the words burning a hole in her daughter. Sighing, Denise turned to see Rose sitting, eyes glittering with tears as she witnessed the blazing row. "Oh Rose, I'm sorry honey." But Rose got up off her seat, before turning to look at her mum and yelled,

"You said no more shouting mummy! You promised!"

With those words hanging in the air, Rose ran out of the room and up the stairs, crying her little heart out, terrified of that person she called 'mummy'. She ran into her bedroom before closing the door and sitting behind it, still sobbing.

Downstairs, Denise stood in the kitchen, unsure what to do. Should she still go to work, or stay home? However, after about 5 minutes of failing to coax Rose out of her room, the decision was made for her. She headed out to the car and chapped on the window of her daughter's side. "Rose won't come out of her room, so I need you to stay home. I'll vouch for you, say you're sick or something." Immediately, her daughter's enraged face turned to her and snarled

"You never listen do you? I'm getting an award today! I can't skip school! Besides, this is your fault. You deal with it."

And with that, Jasmine stepped out of the car and slammed the door, before heading down the drive.

"Jasmine!" Her mum shouted.

Without turning around, her daughter yelled,

"I'll walk!" and with that, she tossed the car keys back to her mum and left, anger welling up inside.

"Hello, and welcome to the 6 o'clock news. Top story tonight: news has broken that a young girl from Sun Hill, Canley in London has been snatched from her bedroom as she slept. The incident is said to have taken place in the early hours of the morning. Our local newscaster Harry Pembroke is there. Harry, what can you tell us?"

"Thank you Janine. Well, so far I can tell you that the victim is a 6 year old girl named Rose Halpern, who lives in the family home with her mother, father and older sister. As you said, she was snatched in the early hours of this morning, with early reports suggesting she went missing anywhere between the hours of 11pm and 6am, whilst the rest of the family were in bed. Our sources tell us that the father - Mr. Nigel Halpern - has been away on business for the past 2 days and will return later this afternoon to be with his distraught family. Police have cordoned off the area and are currently interviewing locals to try and establish just what happened. I've also been told that an appeal has been arranged to take place later this afternoon once Mr. Halpern has returned, meaning this search will already be nationwide."

"Ok thanks Harry. We'll hear back from you later. In other news..."


	2. Chapter 2

_I hope everyone continues to read and enjoy this story, and so you know….I love writing it! :D Yay! X_

**Chapter 2 – Tell Me A Story**

DI Manson received the call just after 6am.

It had woken him up from a short, uncomfortable sleep he'd had in the chair beside his son's hospital bed. He'd popped in late the previous night after his shift had ended to see Jake in the cancer ward, hoping to see a vibrant, happy young boy sitting up excited to see his dad. It was the same hope he carried around with him on every visit to the ward, but it didn't help him deal with the inevitable: the small, emaciated boy lying on his bed, trying to raise a smile but obviously too tired to see it through. It broke Neil's heart to see, and sometimes he felt like just staying away; shielding himself from the pain and anguish of watching Jake fight a losing battle with an invisible enemy. Often, Neil would sit in his house with his head in his hands, cursing himself for being a failure as a dad because he was supposed to protect his boy from danger, and instead danger had taken his son while Neil's back was turned. That was the most horrible thing, and Neil would never forget it. Not in his entire life.

He picked up the phone. "DI Manson." He stood up and moved out of the ward into the hall, scared that he might wake Jake – or one of the other kids.

"Guv." It was Grace Dasari, one of Neil's team. An experienced officer, Grace was normally one of the first people Neil turned to for help with a job, as he knew her professionalism and commitment were second to none. He enjoyed working with her, and often found himself filled with admiration as he watched her work. At that moment, he wondered why he felt so happy to hear her voice.

"Grace. What is it at…" he glanced at the wall clock, "…6 in the morning?" He could hear in the background the sounds of rustling and footsteps, plus vaguely muffled voices.

"You're not going to like this." She sounded stressed. Really stressed.

"When do I ever?" He said, with only a slight hint of humour. On the other end, Grace smiled a half-hearted smile, knowing exactly what the DI was saying.

"It's a missing child Guv. 6 year old girl, snatched during the night." As soon as she had said it, Neil felt his heart sink like a lead weight. He'd spent all this time looking after Jake, and so he didn't know how many more child-related tragedies he could face. But he had to get it together, because this wasn't about him.

"Ok Grace. What's the address?"

"17 Wellbank Road, Guv. It's the house with the blue door."

"Ok Grace, I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up. Looking down at his dishevelled clothes, he knew he couldn't go into work like that. His shirt was crumpled and his jacket the same, plus he could feel the sweat gathering at his underarms and neck. So he made the executive decision to head home and get changed, before meeting Grace and the team at the girl's home address. He re-entered the ward, and thankfully Jake was still sound asleep. As Neil watched him, he looked so innocent and so dainty. If it weren't for the baldness – and the fact he was in hospital – to look at him you wouldn't know there was anything wrong. He just looked like a normal – albeit rather thin – young boy who was enjoying a dreamy, comforting sleep. It hurt, as Neil wished more than anything that it could be true, but he knew that he just had to learn to deal with the cards he had been dealt. So when he had these thoughts? Well, he cursed himself for being so selfish when it was Jake who was suffering. I didn't matter what he did, he just couldn't stop feeling useless, like somehow this was all his fault, and that Jake could maybe get better if Neil could just be stronger; be a man about it. He picked up his overcoat – and makeshift duvet – off of the mauve bedside chair and put it on, before leaning down to plant a quick kiss on his boy's forehead. It was a small sentiment, but Neil hoped it made a difference. Just one last glance at his son, then Neil walked out the double doors and back into his job.

Grace pressed the end call button and slid her hone back into her jacket pocket. For whatever reason, it made her feel better knowing that the DI was going to arrive soon; like things would be OK once he took charge. It wasn't that she felt she was incapable of running things with this investigation; she was. She just felt good knowing there would be someone else from CID with her to take control of what was fast becoming a stressful situation for all the officers. Being outside, it was such a refreshing April morning that it didn't suit the situation they were in. As a child, Grace had always thought that you would be able to tell if something bad was going to happen. Maybe the sky would darken, or the birds would stop singing. It wasn't until her uncle died in a car accident that she realised that the world just kept spinning, even when the people living in it were losing their minds. It seemed perverse somehow. She turned to the girl's mother, who was being spoken to by PC Mel Ryder and PC Leon Taylor. She sometimes glanced at Mel Ryder – the young female PC – and remembered her own days in Uniform. All the messy jobs they had to deal with, and the obscure shifts that pretty much destroyed any chance they had of having a personal life. That's partly why Grace had become so committed to the job: she had never had the time to establish a life for herself outside the station. It had never happened for her: never met the right man, never had kids, never done the whole 'late night, partying, pick up a guy' thing. Again part of that was because it had just never appealed to Grace; she preferred having a job to go to, to give her something to strive for and become engrossed in. Sometimes though, she couldn't help feeling like she'd let herself miss out on a lot of things, and she wasn't too sure if she'd come to regret it one day.

"DC Dasari." She turned, hearing the familiar, cockney tone of Inspector 'Smithy' Smith. A 'veteran' at Sun Hill, Smithy had been there long before Grace; since 1999, or thereabouts. Yet he looked so young and energised, like a new recruit getting bang into his work. She got on well with Smithy, although they weren't what people would call 'close friends', but she liked him anyway.

"Sir." She watched as he lifted out his notebook and flipped the pages until he evidently arrived at the correct one.

"Ok. I spoke to the sister, Jasmine, and she tells me that she was asleep, but she thought she heard something during the night, but can't be sure of the time. Then, when she woke up and saw her little sister wasn't in her room, she told her mum, who called us."

Grace tried to take it in. "So…are we saying abduction?"

Smithy rubbed his chin in thought. "I dunno. Roger says there are no forced entry signs at the door, and as soon as forensics arrive, they'll be up in Rose's room. We can't rule out that this is simply a case of a little girl running away." Even as he was saying it, Grace could tell that he didn't quite believe it. This just didn't feel like a runaway case. Something felt wrong.

"Sir, all things aside, in your opinion, does this seem like a runaway case to you?"

Smithy thought about it, then shook his head.

"No. No it doesn't, but we need to be objective about this. So no jumping to conclusions. We'll have more when forensics get here." He paused, before saying:

"Grace, can you go and speak to the girl's mother right now? I need my officers to conduct a door-to-door."

Grace nodded. "Of course Sir."

Smithy nodded his acknowledgement and thanks. He then turned around and approached Mel and Leon. Grace couldn't hear him, but she could see him directing them towards the opposing houses and the neighbours, gesturing for them to be quick but thorough. They nodded and headed off to carry out their duties. Grace walked towards the girl's mum, conscious of perhaps being confronted with a very angry, very confused woman. What greeted her instead was silence, as if the fragile little woman wasn't even there. Nonetheless, Grace smiled what she hoped was a comforting smile.

"Mrs…" It was just then that Grace realised she didn't even know this woman's name. Why hadn't she asked Smithy before he'd left? Rookie mistake.

"…Halpern," the woman finished for her. "Denise." She didn't bother returning Grace's smile, she just looked at her with sad eyes, so sad they struck her immediately. They were haunted; the eyes of someone who had given up on life….or at least given up on herself.

"Sorry. I didn't…I'm DC Dasari. Grace." She felt bad for not knowing Denise's name before, but she seemed to have let it go already, so so would Grace.

"Would you like to go into the house Denise? I need to talk to you about Rose." Denise nodded, and so she led Grace into the family home, indicating that she could sit down. Grace sat, and eventually so did Denise.

"Mrs Halpern…"

"Denise."

"Ok, Denise. Can you tell me about Rose?"

She nodded, clearly struggling t keep it together, so Grace placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder in a bid to relax her. Looking at her, Denise was clearly a pretty woman: long blonde hair tied up in a bun, and perfectly smooth unblemished skin with a hint of now runny make-up; a clue at her sorrow. Grace guessed she was no older than 35.

"Rose. My little baby. Possibly the funniest little girl I've ever met; always smiling. That…sweet smile. She's so perfect." She then tried to rescue her resolve. "I…I take it you want a picture of her?"

Grace nodded, adding: "If that's alright with you. It means if we have a picture of her, we can show people what she looks like, and that increases our chances of finding her."

Denise stood up and reached across to the television unit, lifting a medium sized silver photo frame with 'Angel' on it. She handed it to Grace, saying;

"Rose knows not to go with strangers. We've always told her that, ever since she was old enough to understand. I don't get it. Why would she go with someone she doesn't know?"

But Grace had another question.

"We've?"

"Hmm?"

"You said 'we've always warned her about strangers."

Denise nodded. "Yes, myself and my husband." Suddenly realising where Grace was coming from, she explained. "He's away on business right now. I'll get you the details."

Grace muttered 'thanks' whilst looking at the photo of Rose. She was also pretty, with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a pink t-shirt with 'Hannah Montana' on it, and in the photo she was smiling sweetly for the camera. It was a head and shoulders shot, so perfect for identification purposes. Just then, Denise returned, holding out a piece of paper. Grace stood up and took the paper from her.

"Here. Nigel Halpern. He's staying at the Marriott Hotel in Newcastle. That's his room number and phone extension. Plus, his mobile."

Grace smiled at Denise.

"Thank you. I'll go give this to my Inspector, and I promise we'll call him right away. If you wait here Denise, I'll be back soon."

Grace pocketed the piece of paper, and left the house, still clutching the photo of Rose. Suddenly, DI Manson pulled up in his car, looking rather tired.

"Guv."

Neil looked over and saw Grace heading towards the car. He smiled at her before shutting the car door and locking it.

"Grace. I got here as quick as I could." He checked his watch. Only half an hour after she'd called. Perhaps he hoped she hadn't noticed how long he'd been; she decided to give him that little victory.

"Guv, let me fill you in." She handed Neil the photograph. "Little girl called Rose Halpern, aged 6. She went missing during the night, and when the sister Jasmine discovered she was gone, the mother phoned us."

Neil nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Ok. So if the mother called us just after 6…"

"…and she had gone to bed just after midnight, as she told Smithy…"

"…then this little girl went missing anytime between those six hours. That's a big gap." He sighed. "Did neither the sister nor the mother hear anything during the night?"

Grace nodded. "Jasmine told Smithy that she heard something during the night whilst she was in bed, but that she can't be sure of a time. Denise didn't mention anything when I spoke to her."

"Ok, well we need to speak to Jasmine again, find out if she can shed any more light on what it was she heard, and then we need to see what comes back from the door-to-door that I presume Smithy's officers are conducting?"

Grace nodded.

"Yeah, they've been doing that for about 5 minutes Guv."

"Good. I presume Eddie's here by now?"

Grace shook her head.

"Haven't seen him yet. I guess he'll be here soon though."

Neil sighed. It would be hypocritical of him to chastise Eddie for being late, considering he himself had been over half an hour late. He decided to let it slide.

"Well, where's the mother?"

"In the house."

"Ok, well we'll also need to continue talking to her. She might be able to help us."

Just then, Grace remembered the piece of paper in her pocket.

"Oh, and there's this. Denise's husband is away on business in Newcastle. I have his details here, shall I give him a call?"

Neil nodded. Just as Grace was about to leave, Smithy came running over, a frantic look in his eyes.

"Neil. You're here. It's about Mrs Halpern's daughter, Jasmine…"

"What is it Smithy?"

Smithy sighed in frustration. "She's gone!"

**End of Chapter 2.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and enjoying __ I hope you continue to do just that, because it makes me smile to read your lovely posts __ Sorry this chapter is much shorter, only there was only so much to say. Don't worry, the next one will have more to it. x_

**Chapter 3 – Tell Me A Story**

Neil had lashed out. He hadn't meant to, and on reflection it wasn't a very professional thing to do. He just needed to try and detach himself from the emotional visit to the hospital, but with this case being as stressful as it was he didn't have the chance. That's why he had blamed Smithy…or at least that's how he chose to justify his words. He had to get a grip on things again, but somehow normality seemed an unattainable goal.

"Gone? What do you mean she's gone?" Neil looked at Inspector Smith incredulous. They were at a crime scene, surrounded by a police cordon, manned by plenty of police officers. How could one teenage girl get past that?

"I mean just that. PC Knight was speaking to her about her sister's disappearance. According to PC Knight, she then told Jasmine to go and join her mum. But she never did."

"And did PC Knight not think to escort the girl back personally?"

Smithy noted a certain 'tone' in DI Manson's voice that he did not appreciate. However, he let it go. This time.

"I instructed all of my available officers to stay by the cordon except PC Mel Ryder and PC Leon Taylor who are out as we speak conducting a door-to-door."

Neil frowned. He clearly didn't like the explanation that Smithy was offering.

"But Smithy, what with one sister having already gone missing, I would have thought that you would have made sure Jasmine was accompanied by an officer until she was at least safe with her mum. Surely you could spare **one** officer?"

Smithy shook his head no. "Not possible. We're stretched as it is and everyone is being approached by different neighbours claiming to have seen different things. Any officers I don't have here at the scene are out on the streets looking for the sister, Rose. I assumed that Jasmine – being a teenager – would be able to follow a simple instruction and go to her mum."

Neil scoffed.

"Well obviously your assumption was wrong. We can't afford to make mistakes here, and Smithy that was a mistake. We need to find that girl, and fast."

He made to walk away, but Smithy stood his ground.

"With all due respect Neil, don't tell me how to do my job."

That made Neil turn back around. He'd had an awful few weeks, and he **really **didn't need this.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job. I am just saying…."

But Smithy cut in. Something needed said.

"No I'm sorry, but you are. You have no idea just how stretched we are down in uniform. I am trying my best, but with a spate of burglaries on the Longbridge Estate, plus a car accident on Jug Street, we are a little low on bodies here."

"That's all fair and good Smithy. But my problem is that you didn't have the initiative….no sorry not you. **PC Knight **didn't have the initiative to take that girl to her mother. And look what happens!"

Neil's voice was beginning to rise with frustration. But not nearly as angry as Smithy. His team were working themselves to the bone!

"PC Knight was merely following an order that **I** gave her! And to be honest, I find it funny that you have the audacity to criticise **MY **team's work, considering they have been here since 6am – when the call came in – and you, unsurprisingly, have only just got here."

In the midst of this testosterone packed feud, Grace just stood, at a loss as to what she could do to help. She immediately felt like she wanted to defend DI Manson – not sure why – but she also knew that some of what he was saying was unfair.

"Excuse me? You have **NO** right to question my timekeeping. You have no idea where I've been this morning!"

Smithy laughed bitterly at that. His face screwed in an angry manner, he looked straight at Neil and, lowering his voice slightly, replied:

"Yeah, that's the problem. No one knows where you are these days."

It left a stunned silence in it's wake.

Smithy walked off, determined to keep his temper in check. He didn't turn around as he left, or else he would have seen a steely-eyed Neil Manson stand stock still with his hands hanging limp by his side, and an awkward DC Dasari, who was looking everywhere but at her boss.

She sat against the wall, her cold hands pressed to her forehead as the tears swam down her face with fragile grace. Her phone bleeped in her pocket, but she ignored its frantic calls to be answered. Instead, she simply screwed her eyes closed and imagined that little girl's face. Smiling at the camera, grinning as her daddy lay up to his neck in beach sand. The same little girl who cuddled into her mummy every night with the sweet, dulcet tones of a feminine voice as 'Hush, Little Baby' soothed her to sleep. That little girl was gone, and in her place only a dark cloud was left, and it was all his fault. She'd never utter a word, not one. It would sit in her throat and wait to be heard, but no one would hear. All around her, rain pattered down as the beginnings of a cloudy day arrived. The ground gradually got wetter, and her clothes began to cling to her skin, but she barely noticed. Her world was centred around this new nightmare, one which she couldn't face, and with all her fragile heart, she wished to go to sleep once more.


	4. Chapter 4

_Yay, on to Chapter 4 now! It's so hard trying to focus sometimes, but this one really ought to be quite good. I gotta lengthen my chapters – I just noticed how short they are! Not good. Anyways, read on and hope you enjoy! Tah 3 x_

**Chapter 4 – Tell Me A Story**

PC Kirsty Knight watched from the cordon as Inspector Smith tore strips out of DI Manson. She knew it was down to her – what with Jasmine running off – and she had felt like she should go over and say something. However, once Ben, Roger and a few other officers had been dispatched to search for Jasmine, she really had to stay by the cordon, or else her head would be firmly placed in the noose. She also knew just how much of a field day Sgt. Stone would have, berating her for this further mistake – one in a long line that she seemed to be making these days. It was a mystery to her, but for whatever reason she seemed to have really rubbed Stone up the wrong way, and no matter what she did nothing seemed to make a difference. He was forever breathing down her neck and watching everything she did, probably desperately waiting until she tripped up, which would give him the chance to belittle her even more. It was like he got a kick out of chipping away at her confidence bit-by-bit until she would have nothing left to give.

A few minutes later, she noticed Inspector Smith making his way over to her, and so she averted her gaze and looked nonchalantly across the street, perfecting the act of doing her job.

Or so she thought.

"PC Knight, do I have something on my face?"

She frowned.

"Sir?" She felt really bad for Jasmine running off, but surely the Inspector would lay off of her. After all, no one else was going to.

"I just wondered, considering you've been staring so intently at me for quite a while now. I know I'm good looking, but there's limits." He smiled at her, and for once she felt as if she just might have someone she could rely on.

"Sorry Sir. And, sorry about Jasmine…"

But Smithy held up a placating hand.

"Forget it. You were busy doing what I asked you to do. Forget DI Manson's criticism, he's probably taking something out on you that he shouldn't. I want you to stay here by the cordon and keep a watch on the neighbours okay? I'll send DC Dasari to look after the mother whilst I help look for Jasmine. So just stay here."

Without another word Smithy headed off, leaving a slightly worried and irritated Kirsty behind.

Neil could see Smithy talking to PC Knight at the cordon, and he couldn't help but wonder what he was saying to her. It would be extremely unprofessional if he was to badmouth him to a PC, but he didn't see Smithy as that sort. If he was being honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he felt guilty about arguing with the Inspector. After all, they'd always gotten on before this and – although Neil was going through such a bad time at the minute – it was out of character for the two to disagree professionally. Plus, something Smithy said had really hit home. Nobody knew where Neil was these days. He was so preoccupied with looking after Jack – and he had been insistent that his colleagues back at the station didn't find out – that he'd let his duties and commitment slip, and that was wrong. Neil just had to admit that he had allowed his stressful private life to get the better of him, and that just wouldn't do. So when he saw Smithy re-approaching him, he decided to offer the apology that he owed.

"Smithy."

Initially, Smithy had been headed to speak to Grace, but this had to be said.

"Smithy, I owe you an apology for my outburst just then." Smithy prepared to cut him off, but Neil pressed on. "You're right, people don't know where I've been. I've been so busy lately – so caught up in my own circumstances that I've not considered how that would affect my colleagues. So long as we find Jasmine safe and secure, I think I should just let it go."

At this, Smithy stood stock still for a second, taking in the apology. It sounded genuine, and brought back Smithy's initial concerns of what was keeping Neil away from the station lately? However, he knew that wasn't his business, and so instead he offered a reconciliatory smile.

"Fair enough. I was out of order too, and I do apologise that my officer let the young girl run off. I'm actually going to help look for her just now, which…" He now turned to face Grace who was standing with the DI. "DC Dasari, I need you to go and sit with Jasmine's mother whilst I go and look for her. I'd ask PC Knight, only she's still manning the cordon, what with most of my officers searching for Jasmine or attending door-to-doors."

Grace nodded and excused herself, happy to be able to do something useful.

Smithy had one more thing to say to Neil before heading off on the search.

"Neil…I don't know what it is that's gone on with you lately, but I was out of order questioning you. I jus hope everything's alright."

Neil nodded what he hoped would appear a sincere answer. It seemed to do the job, as Smithy then excused himself and headed across the road to begin helping his officers search the neighbouring streets for Jasmine. As Neil made the decision to go with Grace to meet the mum, he really hoped he could shake himself out of the state he was in. People were starting to notice.

The rain began to pour down until it became a steady wash across London. Hidden in a dark corner of the climbing frame, Jasmine huddled even further under the shelter to keep from getting wet. If she turned around, she would see scurries of officers surrounding her house, each busying about with their jobs to do. Instead, she chose to keep still and face ahead, because that way she could pretend that this wasn't her life falling apart; she was just an ordinary girl enjoying a day at the park. She knew that – by now – people would be looking for her, but if anyone was listening they would help her remain unfound, because to go back, to face all that….

Smithy cursed the rain that began falling all around him as he scoured the neighbouring street for Jasmine. He didn't want to shout her name, not entirely sure why, but he had a feeling that she wasn't all too keen on being found. That said, he wasn't risking being unprepared if he came across the culprit having snatched the girl. So, armed with his ASP, Smithy searched garden upon garden, nook upon cranny until eventually he had to admit she wasn't here. However, just as he prepared to head back to the cordon, he noticed up ahead. A play park….

Jasmine wiped the tears from her eyes, which she liked to convince herself was the rain on her face. It was all the pain from looking at the picture. Her sister, three weeks ago, was playing in her room with her stuffed donkey. She'd demanded all of Jasmine's attention – which she was more than happy to give – and together they'd laughed and messed around for the best part of an hour. As they were tidying up, Rose had squealed in delight as she found her cuddly 'Arthur the sheepdog' which she thought she'd lost. All at once she'd asked Jasmine to take a picture of her and Arthur, and so here she was now. Nothing more than a picture, smiling back at her sister with the widest grin she could muster. It broke Jasmine's heart to see her, knowing that it could be the only way she'd ever see that sweet innocent face again. Putting the phone back in her pocket, she thought of him, and what would happen if she found out that he was involved. She could see his evil sneering face laughing at her, mocking her! She wanted to scream, but that would attract the officers' attention, and she'd rather avoid that altogether. But he was still there, taunting her, daring her to scream. Well she wouldn't, but she'd find a way to rip that smile from his foul mouth. Could she do it? Could she kill a man?

He walked quietly, determined not to alert her to his presence. If he could just keep her calm, she might – just might – give him the time of day. Thankfully, his intuition about the play park had been right, because he could now see the huddled, shivering figure of a young person hiding inside the climbing frame. Their hood was up, which meant he couldn't be 100% certain it was Jasmine, but reason told him that there couldn't be many teenagers hiding in climbing frames in the pouring rain in the area. So, calm and cautious, he approached it, before finally speaking up.

"Jasmine?"

Silence. But his suspicions were confirmed when he saw a slight movement in the figure.

"Jasmine, I'm Inspector Smith. I'm a police officer. Are you alright?"

Still nothing.

"Listen, I just want to know that you're okay. Your mum will be really worried about you."

He was shocked by the answer he got.

"Yeah right! Worried about me? Don't kid yourself!"

Why would Jasmine question her mum?

"Jasmine? Can you come out?"

She remained still for a few minutes, before slowly coming out. When she turned to face Smithy, he was saddened by her appearance. Long brown hair fell flatly across her face with the rain, her eyes thick with make-up and yet the bags underneath clearly un-disguised. She looked like she'd had the life kicked out of her.

"Are you alright Jasmine?"

She didn't indicate either way. Instead, she spoke in a flat, monotonous voice.

"Just don't take me home."

**End of Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

_Ok, Chapter 5 of Tell Me A Story. Here we go. First of all, I made a bit of a balls-up in the last chapter: I said Smithy looked at Jasmine with her long brown hair, but actually I created the character to have dyed black hair; made obvious in Chapter 1. So sorry for the mistake guys. Secondly, can I just say? The Bill is gone! Completely in mourning here! :'( so to satisfy my anger, here's another chapter of this fic :D enjoy! X_

**Chapter 5 – Tell Me A Story**

Smithy folded his arms in a vain attempt to warm up. Out there, in the pouring rain, he felt so…cold inside. Was that all weather related? Or was it the look in Jasmine's eyes? A look he'd seen all too many times in his career.

"I said, don't take me home."

He knew what she wanted; it was a matter of what he HAD to do.

"Jasmine, I need to take you home. Your mum's worried sick about you."

At this Jasmine scoffed, a look of sheer disgust on her face. Her reply came in a hateful tone.

"I knew you'd say that. God, you just don't get it do you?" She leaned forward and widened her eyes. "I-DON'T-WANT-TO-GO-HOME!" She shouted, keeping a barrier against those emotions that wanted to spill out. Her momentary burst of anger took Smithy aback. He didn't know what to say to placate her.

"Look…"

She tried to regain some composure, lowering her voice and retreating from the Inspector slightly.

"No. Just leave me here. Say to your colleagues that you looked but couldn't find me."

Even as she said it, she knew he wouldn't.

"Jasmine, please. I don't know what to do here. You're refusing to come back with me, but I know that you know I can't leave you out here. I don't think you know this though: I really want to help you. I do."

He looked at her imploringly, desperate for her to see that he was genuine. He couldn't let her slip through his grasp; not with some crazed kiddie-snatcher on the loose. Jasmine just stood, a look of sadness on her face; desperation in her voice.

"You can't take me back there. Please! I can't go back there."

Something in the way she spoke told him that there was no overreaction on her part. Whatever it was, something was so frightening that it was driving her from her home, and he had to protect her from it.

"Okay, Jasmine? Okay. I won't take you back home, but I HAVE to inform my colleagues that I've found you. Can I do that?"

However, he could see the fear in her eyes.

"But they'll tell her. She can't know where I am!"

So this had something to do with the mum.

"No, they won't Jasmine okay? I'll tell them not to. I'll send out a radio alert, but ensure that your mum doesn't find out. Although she really ought to know."

"Look, I know I'm only 15, but I can look after myself!"

Smithy smiled. "Oh, I can see that. You're a really independent girl, right? Don't need anyone?"

Jasmine nodded.

"I certainly know I wouldn't wanna take you on!" He winked, trying to lighten the mood. Jasmine, beginning to like Smithy, smiled back. However, this slight softening didn't last long, as soon enough the tough, abrasive exterior of Jasmine Halpern re-established itself.

"I swear, if you tell 'em where I am, and they tell my mum, I'll run. I ain't goin back to her!"

It was clear to Smithy that she wore this fighter mask to distance herself from people; what he couldn't grasp was why she felt the need to be so disconnected.

"I'm not gonna let them tell your mum where you are okay? We have to tell her we found you…"

Jasmine immediately laughed at him, a cold bitter laugh that shouldn't belong to such a young girl. She turned on her heel and started walking off.

"What is it they say? Oh yeah: NEVER TRUST A PIG!"

But Smithy wasn't letting her out of his sight; not again. He began following her.

"…but we don't have to tell her where we've taken you." He finished. However, Jasmine didn't take any notice, as she kept on walking, brisker and brisker, ever aware of Smithy on her tail.

Without turning round, she retorted:

"You said! You said she didn't need to know anything! Now you're telling me she's gonna know you found me! But that's bollocks, cos then she'll find me!"

Smithy knew he was losing her; he HAD to find a way to reason with the obviously scared kid.

"Jasmine, why are you so determined not to go and see your mum?"

At that she stopped, turning to face him, a look on her face akin to that of dark hatred.

"Because she's done this!"

The mis-matched pair sat on a small log next to the canal not far from the park. Jasmine had gone rather quiet since shouting at Smithy, only speaking to say "I don't need a therapist!" Be that as it may, he knew there was something going on with this girl that she was hiding away from; something that she needed to have the courage to confront.

"So this is your mum's doing is it?" He asked, genuinely. Jasmine just sat, occasionally throwing bits of grass or random stones into the water, watching the calm effect of the ripple it caused. Eventually, she sighed and turned to look at Smithy.

"Well…she never took Rose. That's obvious."

Smithy looked at her questioningly.

"And you know who did?"

She shook her head.

"If I did, I wouldn't be sat here beside you would I?"

Just then, Jasmine's phone began to ring. As she took it out of her pocket, she glanced at the screen. Instantly, she pressed the 'Ignore' button, and angrily threw her phone into the water, before resting her head in her hands. The thumping in her chest increased as soon as she saw the name displayed on the small screen, her head throwing around a hundred different possibilities. A growing sick feeling became ever-present in her gut, and she fought back the tears that threatened to escape her clutches.

She became aware of the look of sheer astonishment plastered across the copper's face.

"Never liked that phone anyway. Good excuse to get a new one."

Smithy just kept looking at her, before finally asking the obvious question.

"So…you're not gonna tell me who that was?"

"Too right I'm not!"

None of this made any sense to Smithy. Here was this girl, only fifteen years old, with a little sister gone missing. Surely she'd want to be close to her family; gain comfort from them? Instead it was like she was too angry – or indeed scared – to go back home. Not only that, but she was receiving mysterious calls and refusing to name names. It all seemed really messed up to him, and it was so clear that there was something going on here, and he was going to find out what it was. Jasmine willing or not.

"Ok. Don't tell me then. Just…help me out Jasmine. Give me something! Please!"

Silence fell between the two, each encased in their own thoughts. However, soon enough, the silence became too much for Jasmine to bear, and she groaned loudly.

"Urgh!"

With that she stood up, stared straight at Smithy, before adding: "Fine. I'll come with you. But NOT home. We go somewhere else, ok?"

With her hands firmly crossed, and the 'don't fuck with me' look on her face, Smithy knew this was his one shot; he wasn't about to let it go.

"Received."

Kirsty let go of the comm. button on her radio and sighed. Great(!) DI Manson was already annoyed at her; how was he going to feel when she delivered the news about Jasmine? Maybe she could find Leon and get him to do it? But no, Smithy had given HER the order, and he'd soon find out if she'd pawned it off onto someone else – he had an infuriating knack of knowing everything about everything at the station! _Although surely, if this was the case, he'd have stepped in long ago and defended me against Stone? _Because if it was obvious to someone like Nate Roberts that something was going on between them, then it had to be obvious to Smithy, right?

Just then, she spotted PC Taylor returning to the cordon, clearly having completed a less than fruitful door-to-door.

"Hey Leon. Leon!"

She managed to awake him from his daze, and he walked over to where she was standing, looking slightly grumpy.

"Why is it, when something like this happens, people suddenly lose their ability to see and hear?" He pocketed his little black notebook. "You'd think – given this is a little girl we're talking about – that people would be more observant."

Kirsty gave him an acknowledging smile. Each and every one of them understood the frustration when someone was deliberately obstructive or just downright unhelpful.

"Forget them. Maybe Mel will have had more luck." Even as she said it, she knew it was distinctly unlikely, but that didn't stop them hoping. "Listen, Leon, can you watch the cordon here for me? I gotta go give some news to DI Manson."

Having briefly recounted her last run-in with the DI to Leon earlier, this brought a smile to his face.

"Good news or bad?"

Kirsty sighed. "Bad."

Leon grinned. "Oh, he'll love you. What's happened?"

Kirsty knew she could tell Leon – he wasn't a gossip. Normally. "Well Smithy's found the teenage sister – Jasmine – but she's refusing to come back home, so he's taking her to the station. However, she's demanded that he doesn't let on to her mum that she's been found at all, so now they're having to lie to the mother, and I have the joy of telling the DI." She rubbed her forehead in a showing of the frustration and strain she felt. If it weren't for Smithy being on her side, Kirsty would probably lose her mind. Leon – supposedly a friend – was grinning like an escaped madman, and somehow Kirsty didn't feel the love.

"Aw look, right, it might not be so bad. The DI might understand."

He tried his best to look sincere. Kirsty grabbed on to this.

"D'you think?"

"No." He said, matter of fact.

Kirsty growled and turned, heading towards the Halpern's house, Leon's rendition of the 'Death March' following her.

**End of Chapter 5.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6 now and I hope you guys are finding this a good read. I know it takes me a while to ud sometimes, and I do apologise for that. I keep trying to get them up as soon as I can, it's just a matter of finding time in-between job hunting etc. But if you guys have been awesome enough to keep up with this then thank you so much ^^_

_Once again, I don't own The Bill, because if I did it'd still be on TV… And Smithy would have had WAY more topless scenes! ;) Xx_

**Chapter 6 – Tell Me A Story**

The sound of the water running was all that penetrated the uncomfortable silence. A glass shoved underneath, water building up and up until it was almost overflowing, before her smooth, manicured hands reached across to turn the cold silver tap off. As she sipped from the glass, her throat began to cool from the soothing sensation of the fresh cold liquid meeting her gullet – great pain relief having cried herself hoarse not long before. Her mind was racing through all manner of things, but only one she really needed to know.

"So you're telling me my own daughter doesn't want to see me?" Denise's voice was small; timid, and filled with a mix of emotions. As she looked into her living room for conformation, she saw two businesslike police officers – each one seemingly having a contest to see who could look more uncomfortable – and wondered how she'd let her life slide into this…..oblivion. Her youngest daughter, snatched during the night, god knows where, and her eldest daughter repulsed at the sight of her. If it weren't for Nigel then….

"Mrs Halpern, I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but that's the information we've been given by our colleague. We CAN inform you that she's been found, but that's about it."

Grace Dasari didn't like this situation anymore than Denise did: Jasmine was only 15. However, she'd never found reason to doubt Smithy's judgement before, and she knew that he wouldn't make this kind of decision unless there was clout behind it. So she just had to deal with it. Denise, on the other hand, was not so understanding.

"B-but…that's not possible. I'm her mother!" By now she had sat the glass down and was becoming increasingly angry. "She's only 15! What right do you have keeping me from my girl?" It all became too much and she let the tears manifest themselves on her face, holding a shaking hand over her mouth to choke the sobs that were ready to erupt. "M-my girl!"

Her emotion created an uncomfortable atmosphere in the house, both suited officers unsure what to do. Grace was the slightly more emotionally connected of the two, and so she moved into the kitchen and placed a timid hand on her shoulder. It was a small gesture, but one that seemed to placate Mrs Halpern.

"Listen…" But the words refused to form in Grace's mind. What could she say? This woman was slowly losing grip on everything in her life, being hurtled at a hundred miles an hour down a road she never wanted to be on, and there was nothing that she could say to ease the pain. It was moments like this that the analytical mind DC Grace Dasari possessed reverted to solid, hard facts – something she took immense comfort in.

"Listen Mrs Halpern, we're not allowed to tell you where your daughter is. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. We – as officers – have a duty of care to your daughter, just as you do. What we can do…" she looked to Neil for conformation, and he stood up, intrigued as to what angle his DC was about to take. "We can possibly arrange for one of our officers to speak to your daughter again, perhaps convince her to even speak to you on the phone. I am sorry, I know this is difficult right now, but Jasmine must have her reasons for doing this and the last thing we want to do is agitate or upset your daughter after what she's been through, as that will only exacerbate any mental strain or trauma she's experiencing."

Denise looked to DC Dasari with desperate eyes, holding on to the small sliver of hope she'd just been offered. Grace, however, was more concerned with how her boss had taken this. She was essentially offering a deal that perhaps might only be upheld on Denise's end, because there was no guarantee that Jasmine would change her mind, and Neil knew this. Despite this, his face seemed to indicate he had no objections to this proposal and – in fact – as Grace led Mrs Halpern back through to the living room past Neil, he offered her one of his signature small smiles that made the butterflies in her stomach work overtime. It was smile that the officers in CID didn't see often enough, and lately it felt as if that smile was even further away from Neil's face, something that Grace wished she could understand. Understanding, however, was a long way off, as Neil Manson was the man that never shared his thoughts and feelings – especially not to his colleagues. He cut a lonely figure these days, and it always felt as if Grace was becoming paler and paler in significance. Once upon a time it had been different: Neil had been chatty and friendly with her – perhaps more than the other officers – and things had usually been quite light-hearted, at least until the last few weeks, when a certain darkness and gloom had descended over their usually lightly melancholic leader. It meant that working in CID had become more stressful and tense, because on the days when Neil was actually there he was usually in a foul mood and it didn't take much for him to get angry and bite someone's head off. In saying that, those were her favourite days, because when he wasn't there it became 'The Max Carter Show' – enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity!

Suddenly, Denise's phone rang. Immediately, the two plainclothes officers looked at each other with a shared sense of caution. It was too early for any sort of ransom call! They weren't prepared; this was totally out of pattern. Denise, it seemed, was having a similar panic attack.

"Oh my god wh-?" She slowly approached the persistently-ringing phone then stopped, her face displaying a blatant look of terror and confusion in equal measure. She turned to Neil and Grace, fidgeting with her cold hands. "What do we do? I-I-I can't….I don't know how to do this!"

Grace could see that she was about to have a complete mental breakdown and so she crossed to where Denise was standing and wrapped an arm around her.

"Look, it's probably harmless okay? It's only been a few hours since Rose went missing, and previous experience leads me to believe that IF – and I stress if – IF this is a hostage situation then they won't call for another few hours at least. They never call this soon, trust me. So would you like to answer that, or shall I do it for you?"

The weight of the decision on her mind, eventually Denise shook her head.

"I-can't…Please?"

Without saying anything, Grace nodded and smiled, before reaching for the handset and answering.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was slightly muffled, but Grace could make out the familiar sound of a bustling building – perhaps an airport or train station?

"Hello. Who's this?"

It was a male, and he sounded really agitated.

"This is Detective Constable Grace Dasari from Sun Hill police station. Can I ask who this is?"

"Oh thank god! My name's Nigel Halpern. I presume Denise is there? Can I speak to her?"

Something about the man's voice told her he was genuine, but she'd rather be safe than sorry. Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, she spoke to Mrs Halpern.

"Denise, does your husband have a Scottish accent?"

Judging by the immediate look of relief on the woman's face, that was a yes.

"Oh Nigel! I want to speak to him!"

She reached for the receiver the Grace dutifully handed over and started gushing to her husband.

"Oh Nigel, when are you coming home? I don't know what to do! Rose is gone; I don't know where Jasmine is…"

Presumably Nigel was speaking as Denise had all of a sudden gone quiet. Then the conversation came back to her.

"Well she ran off when the police arrived." She sighed. "I've tried! Alth-." She seemed to be getting more agitated. "I thought she was in the house! Well, no I didn't…Look this isn't my fault okay? You KNOW Jasmine hates me, she has done for ages!" She rubbed her forehead. "It's okay though, because one of the police officers has found her. Yes!" Things went quiet, then: "Because she won't tell me where she is! That's why! No, I don't know what I've done! Look Nigel, please can we not fight? I need you're here babe, this is awful!" The tears were gathering once more, and her voice became wobbly as she once more became overwhelmed with emotion. Soon enough the conversation ended, with Denise replying 'I love you too. Hurry home!" She hung up the receiver and sat down on her sofa shakily, but at the same time with an air of calm relief at the knowledge of her husband's impending arrival.

Whilst all this was going on, Grace and Neil retreated to the kitchen where they could talk in private. They could hear this mutterings of half a phone conversation.

"Guv…"

But Neil stopped her with a halting hand.

"Grace before you go any further I just wanna say I'm impressed with how you've been handling all of this. I mean, it's a really stressful situation, and Denise could have potentially become quite volatile. I'm not saying I think she's that kind of person, but you know as well as I do what grief can do to a person. It was down to your use of empathy and reasoning that we kept a lid on this, emotionally." He sighed. "Look I'm babbling here. What I'm saying is, you're being really good here, with her. HOWEVER, in saying that…"

Grace looked at him expectantly.

"I wonder how we're going to convince Denise's daughter to speak to her."

And that's where Grace – having already thought this part through – unleashed her winning smile on Neil; a smile that rarely made its appearance, as Grace was generally a more demure person. In this case, however, she felt a swell of pride at having solved their problem before even facing it.

"But that's the thing: we're not going to be convincing Jasmine to do anything."

She waited to see her boss' confused expression – too cute! – before completing her proposal.

"That's right, we're not: but Smithy is!"

"Right. Yep. Well I can try but, she's not the most…forthcoming of people. Oh haha!" _Intimidated by a teenage girl, I DON'T think! _Smithy grinned at the joke inferred by his fellow officer. Despite everyone's preconceptions of Neil Manson, he was actually a pretty decent guy, with quite a dry sense of humour when people chose to listen. "Yeah no problem Neil. I'll definitely try, but there's no guarantee that she'll want to speak to her mum. I know. Uh huh? Well at least the husband's gonna be there. Does he need picking up from the train station? Okay. Right, see you guys soon."

He hung up his phone and looked over to where a rather quiet, scared looking Jasmine was sitting fiddling with a cold can of Pepsi. He'd offered her a bite to eat too but she'd politely declined, saying she wasn't hungry. Just looking at her sitting so desolate, his heart went out to her. Nobody would want to be in this sort of situation: missing little sister and a feud with the mother, and that was before he even had a grasp on what her relationship with her father was like. For all her knew that could be just as volatile, and then where did that leave Jasmine? He wondered if she had any friends or relatives she could turn to. That's if he couldn't win her over and convince her to talk to her mum. As he watched her open the can and take a long sip, he noted properly her appearance: long dyed black hair teamed with ripped faded grey jeans and a black hoodie blazoned with some logo that said 'Bullet For My Valentine'. _That a band? _He wondered. Team that with a bright green pair of hi top trainers and a green spotty bow in her hair and you had Jasmine Halpern. Which begged the question: what was she rebelling against? Was it just one of those 'I hate the world and everything in it' teenage phases, or was there something else behind this wall of angst and misanthropy? Soon enough, she noticed him staring and frowned, either confused as to what he was thinking about her, or annoyed at his scrutiny. Either way, he felt it best to stop just standing staring and join her at the canteen table.

"You got something wrong with you?"

The question took Smithy by surprise. "Erh, what?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Don't matter. You just…you stare. A lot! Kinda like some pensive guy in a film that contemplates his life or reminisces about something in, like, every scene."

Smithy grinned at her, answering: "Ah right, sorry. Got lost in thought."

"Unfamiliar territory?" She asked, without batting an eyelid. Smithy couldn't help but enjoy this burst of sarcasm; it showed him a girl with a wicked sense of humour, and that meant she wasn't completely lost. Just maybe he'd have a chance of helping her, maybe even convincing her to talk to her mum?

"I'm not talking to her." She said, almost as if in reply to his thoughts. He stared at her, baffled.

"What? You're….?"

"No I'm not psychic, but then I'm not deaf either."

He frowned.

"Your phone conversation?" She elaborated. "Your not as quiet as you think you are. Or indeed subtle." She took another sip of her drink before continuing. "Look, I know you're just doing your job, and I kinda figured my mum would be harassing you guys to know where I am, but I just dunno if I can face her right now."

Smithy smiled a sympathetic smile and decided not to hound her about this. If he gave her some space, that might help.

"I know, and I'm not gonna force you to talk to her. However, she IS really concerned about you, and I know that if it were one of my kids I'd wanna know where they were." It was true, despite the fact that he didn't actually have kids of his own.

Jasmine nodded in agreement to his sentiments.

"I'm sure all parents would. After all, they'd be worth crap if they didn't." She took another sip of her Pepsi, enjoying its cool refreshing taste. It seemed to soothe the raw sting in her throat.

"Exactly!" Smithy stepped in, determined to change her mind. "If a parent doesn't care where their kid is, or doesn't make the effort to find out, then they ARE worth crap!" He leaned forward, eyes imploring. "But your mum isn't. She's going nuts not knowing where you are; it's killing her, especially with Rose going missing. I mean, that can't be easy on you either, right?" He watched her as she bit her lip and shook her tired head, having been hit hard by her sister's disappearance. To comfort her he placed a reassuring hand over hers, and it took him by surprise that she didn't immediately tear it away and twat him! He tried to connect with her; make her see. "So if that's what it's doing to you, just imagine what it's doing to your mum. She's just had one of her girls cruelly snatched away from her…" Before he could finish, Jasmine looked up tearfully at him.

"…and she doesn't deserve to lose another one." She finished for him, her voice strained to contain those emotions that she refused to let out. Sighing, she nodded her head briefly at Smithy. "Ok." She said. "I'll talk to her. But can we bring her to the station, yeah? Cos I dunno if I can go back in that house right now."

Smithy just smiled at her, relieved at her cooperation.

"Thank you Jasmine. I'll call my colleagues and get them to drive her over here. Then, while we're here, we'll take your statements officially, and that gets that over and done with."

Jasmine nodded in agreement, before adding:

"I'm being nice now, but if you tell anyone that I cried…." She pulled a serious face, trying to create an air of authority, but this was quickly destroyed when Smithy winked in acknowledgement and she grinned back.

Neil Manson hung up his phone and felt a pleasant surge of relief. It was the hospital, telling him that Jake had managed almost a full plate of chips and peas and also that he'd even gotten up – albeit aided – and went to the toilet properly. It seemed like nothing at all to most people, but to Neil it was the best news he could have received (except, of course, the cancer was gone and he was in full health.) When he'd asked the nurses to keep him informed of any development he didn't really think they would be in contact all that much – not due to lack of effort on their part, but more that he didn't fully believe that a lot of progress could be made in one day. However he hadn't even been away from the hospital all that long and already he was hearing great things like this. Perhaps the frail, emaciated boy he'd seen earlier had simply looked that way because he was asleep and so his body was exhausted. Perhaps he could begin to let himself believe that this was the beginning of a strong recovery. Just hearing the news had made him swell with pride, because he'd always known that Jake was a fighter, and that when he needed to he could pack some punch! Neil certainly knew that he wouldn't want to be the cancer, facing a determined and severely pissed off Jake.

Interrupting his thoughts was Grace, returning to the living room having stepped outside to take a call. She smiled at him as she entered, and it did something to Neil Manson; created a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. Now there was something for his analytical mind to try and work out!

"Guv that was Smithy."

His eyebrows rose at this.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He said to tell us that he's spoken to Jasmine and – at the expense of a bruise or two to his ego – he's convinced her to speak to her mother."

Neil contemplated this. "Ah, so good news all round then."

Now it was Grace's turn to raise her eyebrows, as Neil silently cursed mentioning it.

"So you've had some good news? Can I ask or…?"

He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I'd rather not talk about it to be honest. If that's okay."

Grace just smiled reassuringly, desperate for him to understand that she was on his side – that she'd never push or hound him.

"Don't be daft. Just so long as it's good."

The pair shared a smile at this, as it was nice to see something working for a change. "Hey you're smiling again." Grace noted, causing a certain blush to form on the each of their faces. Neil coughed awkwardly, but he smiled nonetheless. This was his way of ensuring she didn't suss just how happy he was even being in her company.

"Suits you." She added, smiling warmly at the man she called Guv. Things lapsed into a companionable silence as each one got lost in their thoughts, but eventually Neil broke the quiet.

"Well, better not keep Jasmine and Smithy waiting. D'you think Denise is out of the toilet yet?"

Grace mouthed 'I'll check' before heading to the bottom of the stairs and shouting up.

"Mrs Halpern, are you alright up there?"

In a few seconds the reply came.

"Yep, just washing my hands. I'll be down in a sec."

Grace looked back over to Neil and nodded her head indicating that, yes, Denise was on her way down. Neil joined Grace at the stairs and said:

"Well, we'd best give her the good news when she comes down then. Then off to the station."

**End of Chapter 6. xx**


	7. Chapter 7

_Here we go: Chapter 7. I hope the time between updates hasn't been too long, I just find it difficult to get regular access to internet with all the stuff going on. I'll try to do more (as I keep reiterating to you). Hope people still want to read and enjoy. So here it comes…_

**Chapter 7 – Tell Me A Story**

"Right this way Mrs Halpern." PC Mel Ryder replied in answer to the perplexed look on the woman's face. Mel led her through the doors of their reception until they reached the soft interview room. As the door opened they were greeted with the sight of Smithy and Jasmine sitting chatting, having retired there when they canteen became filled with officers on refs. The pair looked at ease with one another - a far cry from how Mel had imagined her senior officer would be with a hormonal, angsty teenager. She remembered how she'd behaved at that age i.e. out with her friends til late, eating chips and wandering her estate, and a lot of the time they would drink cheap cider. Either that or she hid up in her room. The thing was: everyone at the station imagined her to be the fun, bubbly member of the relief - which in all fairness she was - but that was now. Had they all bore witness to her antics as a teenager then they would have sworn that they were looking at a completely different person. It wasn't a time of her life that she was particularly fond of, but it had shaped who she was as a person now - which made her wonder just what kind of person Jasmine would become as a result of her situation now.

At their entrance to the room, Smithy and Jasmine stopped talking and turned around, Smithy standing up to remove himself from between Denise and her daughter. Denise just stood stock still, gazing sadly at her daughter who - in turn - got up and slowly walked towards her mum. Each one stood looking at the other before, eventually, Jasmine enveloped her mum in a hug, the pain and fear each one held now coupled and shared. It was a nice moment, and so Smithy stood back to stay out of their way. He found himself next to Mel and they smiled at each other.

"I'm glad you convinced Jasmine to see her mum Sir." The young female PC eventually said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence.

Smithy nodded his head. "So am I. With Rose having gone missing, and the husband not here yet, these two really ought to be together, supporting each other through this."

It was true. Mel had never been comfortable with the arrangement of keeping Jasmine from her mother, but as it was the girl's wishes there was really nothing she could do. So to see them reunited was important to her.

"Yeah." She nodded in agreement, before adding: "Sir?"

Smithy smiled at her.

"Yes PC Ryder?"

"Can I just say? I think you've been really good with Jasmine; getting her to open up and agree to see her mum. I mean, I know how unapproachable hormonal

teenage girls can be, because believe or not, I wasn't always this lovely and sweet." She grinned at this, causing her senior officer to smirk.

"Ah right. So once upon a time there was an angsty, fearsome Mel Ryder that we should all have been looking out for?"

"Hey! I may look cuddly and cute, but I could certainly put up a fight in my teen days!" She mock growled and the pair shared a laugh at this. "Nah seriously though Sir. That's pretty cool that you gained her trust. I imagine she wasn't so tame when you first found her."

Smithy scoffed, remembering his initial encounter with Jasmine.

"Yeah you could say that." He rubbed his chin. "She was, uh, well she wasn't too happy to see me anyway."

"I bet." She smiled. "Still, she's here now. I was going to head and get them both a drink from the canteen. Want one?"

Smithy smiled at the offer.

"Ooh, now you mention it I could murder a coffee."

She grinned. "Coming up Sir." Now addressing Mrs Halpern and Jasmine, she asked: "Um, Mrs Halpern?" The pair pulled apart and looked to Mel, standing await at the door. "Can I get you a coffee? Tea?"

Mrs Halpern looked to her daughter who replied: "Can I get a hot chocolate? I hate tea and coffee. Old ladies' drinks." She grinned, clearly meaning it in

jest.

Mel grinned.

"Sure." She turned to her a bemused Smithy. "Hear that granny?" She winked, laughing as he acted insulted.

"I'll have you know I am a perfectly able young man, in the prime years of his life." This made Mel laugh, all professionalism lost as the pair enjoyed a friendly dose of banter. "And anymore cheek from you and I'll have you cataloguing in the evidence room for the rest of the day."

But he winked, making sure that everyone knew he was only kidding. It was a rare occasion when Smithy found himself having to be stern with Mel. The pair enjoyed having a laugh with each other, but he also knew that she was possibly one of the finest officers he had in Uniform, and that when it was required she could be the epitome of a professional, textbook police officer. In saying that, he also knew her to go beyond the call of duty and go out of her way to help someone, so by all accounts she was a stellar asset to the team. That's why - although he made sure to never admit this - she was his favourite one in the relief.

"Can I get a tea please?" The voice of Mrs Halpern piped up.

Mel turned and smiled. "Sure."

"So to sum up..." Smithy spoke. "That'll be one hot chocolate, one tea and a coffee for this old dear." He indicated himself with his thumb. "Think you can handle that PC Ryder?"

She pretended to mull it over.

"Hot chocolate...tea...old dear...Yep I think I've got it."

She opened the door to the soft interview room and left, closing it gently behind her soft form. As she headed along the corridor to the stairs that would lead her to the canteen, her mind wandered back to Smithy. She remembered not that long ago, when Sergeant Stone had been suspended, and she'd came down hard on her Inspector; essentially blaming him for not saving Stone from the axe. She wasn't alone in this pre-judgement: pretty much everyone on the relief (especially Ben) had decided to hold Smithy responsible for the downfall of their Sarge. She remembered at the time that morale had been particularly low, with people even questioning Smithy's ability to lead the relief, and once she'd even caught him sitting in his office - after the shift - clutching a glass of what she assumed was whiskey, looking tired and haggard. Upon reflection she realised that none of what happened was his fault, but that their crucifixion of the Inspector had started him on a slow spiral into meltdown; it was just that at the time their belief was that someone had to be held to account for the loss of Stone. She remembered the incident where she became trapped under water, and Smithy had risked his own life to free her, not leaving until she was safe in his arms and he could be sure that she was alright. Even then, people like Leon and Ben still found ways to turn the situation around until it once more became Smithy's fault, and that was when Mel decided that enough was enough. They had spent too long blaming him for something that was so clearly out of his control, rather than questioning why Sergeant Stone had been suspended in the first place. This was her main argument when gathering the troops in the female changing room, urging them to end their persecution of Inspector Smith and instead focus on doing whatever they could to help get Stone back to the station. Thankfully people had seen things her way and soon enough life at Sun Hill had went back to normal: everyone working together and having each other's backs. At first she still felt that Smithy was beating himself up over what had happened, but eventually he began to get himself back to the strong, collected individual that she respected and cared about. He'd always been a mentor to her - ever since her first day - and when she thought about it, she cared more about what Smithy thought of her than she'd ever done with Stone. Sure, he was her superior officer and she wanted to believe that he had faith in her as a cop - it just meant more to her what Smithy thought.

She entered the canteen and approached the counter to buy the drinks for everyone, when suddenly her radio crackled into life.

"_Sierra Oscar, any unit deal? Reports of a gang fight on the Bronte estate, with one or more suspects armed. Informant is a Mrs. Elspeth Fairhead, flat 11."_

Mel hated when reports like that came through. They took a lot of manpower, and inevitably one or more of the assailants would get away. In the end it became a game of Call My Bluff, when they would battle to crack one of the arrested suspects and gain the names they needed to make further arrests, but seen as how people on the estates usually clammed up and refused to 'grass', this invariably became a fruitless endeavour.

"_Sierra Oscar from Sierra Two-Five, show us dealing."_

She heard the familiar tones of her friend and colleague Nate Roberts as he responded to the call. If she remembered rightly, he was on with Ben today, which meant that the little scumbags fighting on the estate wouldn't know what had hit them. The thought of her friends wading in and kicking ass made her grin to herself, and the strange look she received from the woman behind the counter as she handed over the money suggested that this grin had been noticed. She must have looked like a right maniac – grinning at news of a gang fight!

As she took the drinks on a tray from the woman and headed back out the doors – smiling at colleagues as she went past – she thought back to Jasmine, and how brave she was being considering what was going on. It was a horrific situation to find yourself in, and having dealt with many similar cases in the past, Mel hoped that this one had a happier ending than others.

**End of Chapter 7. xx**


End file.
